While praying about the invitation to write this column, I was drawn by its title, “Grounded in grace.” Scriptures, images and memories of what this means have gathered and danced in my mind’s eye like a flock of birds riding the wind.
I see myself kneeling bedside as a child while my mother taught me the Lord’s Prayer, a first tender grounding in holy words. Recollections of thousands of family meals are linked by the spoken grace we shared together before each dinner: “O Lord God … bless us and these gifts .…”
Sunday school teachers embodied God’s grace with attentive care, Scripture teaching and modeling faith-filled lives. Herdice Hanson, my fourth-grade Sunday school teacher, kept me steadfastly in prayer and welcomed me with hugs and sincere love during visits home after graduation and onward.
The sanctuary of First Lutheran Church, within which my first memories of worship took form, proclaims a deeply comforting verse above the altar: “Lo, I am with you always.” Those words are etched upon my heart. The ever-present accompaniment of Jesus, walking with us each step of life’s journey, is a grounding truth that has sustained me, keeping me at home in him through life’s hurricanes and heartbreaks.
I recall the gestures and joyful energy of children’s songs, singing refrains like “His banner over me is love!” Vibrant Sunday school tunes were augmented by stirring hymns—“Beautiful Savior,” “Son of God, Eternal Savior” and “How Great Thou Art”—and joyous carols—“God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen,” “Joy to the World” and, of course, the quiet power of “Silent Night,” sung by candlelight on Christmas Eve while standing close to those we love. During my 20s, Handel’s “Messiah” joined this internal chorus of hymns and Scripture-based promises set to music.
What we listen to becomes the grounding soundtrack that accompanies the narrative of life. I’ve grown to understand grace through such lyrics as “Word made flesh, whose birth among us hallows all our human race” (“Son of God, Eternal Savior”). What we sing enters into our believing.
Jesus is with you always, the Word made flesh, and he will keep you safe.
My confirmation life verse is Philippians 4:6-7, learned by heart from the Good News version: “Don’t worry about anything, but in all your prayers ask God for what you need, always asking with a thankful heart. And God’s peace, which is far beyond human understanding, will keep your hearts and minds safe in union with Christ Jesus.”
The Spirit has brought those verses back again and again over 40 years. As I hear them, recite them, cry through them or pray them, I’m struck again by how they ground me. Do not worry. Pray. Ask
God. Give thanks. God’s peace is there for you. Both your heart and mind can be kept safe because of Jesus—no matter what, always. God’s peace will keep you.
For a long time, I kept expecting life to get easier. I thought that once I had completed my education, had invested in the hard work of counseling, and had been broken open by the pain and vulnerability of humbling mistakes and conflicts, then it would get easier. Instead, life gets harder.
I see more clearly the brokenness in the world—in government, in institutions, in our beloved church and in the darkness of my own heart. I recognize the energy, faith, cooperation and commitment required to make change, to become healthy, to choose mature ways forward when running away seems easier. I fall short. I lament my own and others’ weaknesses. I cry out to Jesus.
Yet in doing so, I remember and am grounded once more in the grace taught early and well, prayed and modeled and sung by beloved parents, teachers and songwriters. Listen, pray and give thanks. Gather and praise in community. Hug, forgive, serve and love. The songs sing through me; the promises of Scripture reassure me: Jesus is with you always, the Word made flesh, and he will keep you safe.
